Family Portraits
by Grinning Cat
Summary: Three girls come from nowhere, claiming to be Excel's siters. But what's even more confusing is the news they bring from 'back home'...
1. Possibe Relations Make No Sense

**Disclaimer: I don't own this. I own the story line, the computer it's on, the service the Internet Company provides me, the fanfiction account, but I do not own _this_. 'This' as in Excel Saga, not a bologna sandwich. Silly, I didn't even _mention_ a bologna sandwich! You should really pay more attention.**

**A/N: Lot's of people start off their notes by saying 'I got this idea from…'. Well, have I got news for you! THIS CAME FROM THE TOP OF MY HEAD! TAKE THAT! So really, these notes are pointless. TAKE IT AGAIN!**

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**Family Portraits**

_By Someone With A Brain In There Somewhere Maybe_

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"HAIL IL PALAZZO!"

"…zzo…"

Lord Il Palazzo sat upon his high and mighty throne, himself looking quite high and mighty. High meaning of high stature, not like he was on pot. He had morals, please and thank you! No pot for this Il Palazzo! Not that there's another one…

"WHAT WORDS CAN BE BESTOWED TO EXCEL'S EARS FROM HER FABOULOUS LORD?" Excel shouted, wavering a hanky with tear in her eyes. Hyatt just looked on blankly to her lord, eyes holding no understanding in them whatever, hand still slightly raises, blood trickling down her chin.

"While this is our weekly Wednesday meeting that we have while the masses sit in front of the TV to watch another spin-off of CSI, even though they know the one that takes place in Vegas is the best and the others are really know good at all, and yet they still force themselves to watch like the mindless underlings they are, I actually have no plans of conquest that may be put into motion as of yet. If you, Agent Hyatt, and you, Agent Excel, would just give reports of your progress in your own personal ways of conquest and / or ideas that would help us with ACROSS's plans of conquest, I think this meaning would have some point to it after all."

While Excel tried to speed her brain up to take in everything her Lord had just said in what seemed like one long, confusing, and possibly run-on sentence, Hyatt began executing his orders.

"Perhaps if we convinced the masses that all the spin-offs of CSI really were horribly bad and pointless by doing a sketch of it on MAD TV or perhaps SNL, we might further plans for conquest and / or get more air time for the one that takes place in Vegas?" Hyatt asked, a new stream of blood pouring from her mouth as she spoke.

"Although an intriguing idea, ACROSS has already tried that. All it accomplished was a New York episode, although we did get the upper hand when FOX started re-running the original series and naming it CSI: Weekends," Lord Il Palazzo said. He turned his attention to Excel, who seemed to have finally grasped her most likely tiny mind on the situation.

"Excel has no ideas to ramble about for once, sir!" Excel cried enthusiastically. "But she does have something to report!" Lord Il Palazzo waved his hand in a 'go on' gesture. Excel grinned happily and began.

"Excel would just like to say that if three females that kinda sorta not really look like Excel come around here 'cuz they most likely followed my in their very expensive car claiming to be Excel's sisters that they are lying, and don't belive them. In fact, maybe you should just throw them down that pit that you like to throw Excel down! Because after all, they're family!" She paused. "I mean, they aren't family. So maybe…don't?"

Lord Il Palazzo looked at her somewhat blankly, not exactly following her in any retrospect. "I see…" he said, trying to give the feel like he did know what the hell Excel had just said.

Suddenly the back door burst open. Excel spun around too see whom it was, while Lord Il Palazzo lifted his gaze to meet the intruders, and Hyatt fell on the floor dead from the excitement.

"**THERE YOU ARE, YOUR MOTHER !#!**" Yelled the person who seemingly kicked down the door. She was tall, with spiked green hair that ended in purple, a variety of piercings and tattoos, blue Capri pants, converse, and a red tank top. Two more girls followed behind her, one who seemed older and another that seemed younger.

The first girl grabbed Excel and immediately had her in a headlock.

" **WE LOOKED EVERYWHERE FOR YOUR SORRY ASS! WHY THE HELL DIDN'T YOU RETURN ANY OF OUR CALLS?**" She screamed into Excel's ear. Excel didn't seem to do much fighting; just wiggle around and squeal in fear every now and then.

"Oh, release her, Emily, you brute!" the older girl said, disgusted. She was shot and slightly plump, with long, clearly died blonde hair and piercing green eyes, wearing a very sensible beige dress suit and maroon heels. 'Emily' released Excel with a glare. The orange haired girl fell to her knees, grasping her neck and panting heavily.

"She wasn't holding you _that_ hard," the younger girl said in disgust. She was the shortest of all of them, with a grade-school school uniform. Her long brown hair was wavy, and she had huge, thick glasses. "Can't you at least _try_ to be less of a wuss?"

"Well, at least she doesn't cry like you do, Esme," the older girl said, eyeing her. The younger girl turned red and mumbled an 'I do _not_…' before turning her gaze to the ground.

"Excel…" Lord Il Palazzo said as a brief silence has passed over the room. "I assume you know these people?"

"I can utterly and truthfully say that I completely do not know these people in the least bit!"

"Why, you little prick!" The oldest girl exclaimed, moving towards Excel with murder in her eyes. Excel gave a yelp of fear, and looked for something to hide behind. Seeing that Hyatt had died and had not of yet resuscitated, Excel moved to her last resort.

"Lord Il Palazzo, as a loyal member of ACROSS I must ask you to please pull a certain cord and send me hurtling down that pit o' yours!" Excel said, reduced to hovelling. "I beg you! Ellen is older then me and has been going to anger management classes since I've known her, so she scares me more then Emily does, and I'm pretty sure she's always got a switch blade with her!"

"_I_ thought you didn't know us!" yelled Ellen, the eldest, fuming and tapping her heeled foot.

"DO IT NOW!" Excel shrieked as Ellen leaped toward her, with only the twelve-year-old Esme and her switchblade-carrying buddy to stop her.

"If you insist…" Lord Il Palazzo said in a bored tone. As he pulled the rope that opened the pit, and she began falling towards perpetual doom, Excel could of sworn that she saw a look of glee in her lord's eyes.

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**A/N: Cliffhanger? No, not really. But who are these three girls? Are they really Excel's sisters? Are they the muffin men? What? They're men? Find out in the next chapter, and don't forget to review, review, review! **


	2. Revalations to the Highest Degree

**A/N: Thank you to the persons who reviewed me. I am deeply in love with you, and I suggest we get married. No, I'm just kidding. Anyway, I don't write enough, which saddens me, because it makes me feel like a bad person. And then I realize that it doesn't matter much anyway, and I get on with my life.**

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**Family Portraits**

Chapter Two

_By You Friend Neighborhood Hobo_

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The three girls that may or may not be related to Excel jumped back as the trap door opened, sending the bright-eyed girl known merely as Excel falling to her possible doom. Well, only Emily was the one who really jumped back, seeing that she was wearing her comfortable Nikes that she had purchased from her local Foot Locker (for a limited time only!). Yes, I realize that I said she was wearing something else before, but I can break continuality if I want to. Deal.

Ellen stumbled back, seeing that her heels were not the best for jumping, and Esme, having the wonderful not-so-lightning-fast reflexes of a sloth, fell with her possible sister. However, Esme, being smarter then our dear Excel, managed to grab hold of the side of the gaping hole that was our near and dear pit.

"AIIEEE!" Esme shrieked, tears pricking her eyes. "GET ME OUT OF HERE, EMILY! ELLEN!" She paused, contemplating the seriousness of her dreadful situation. "SOMEONE!"

Ellen, whose stiletto heel had broken in the stumble backward, had by now fallen on her backside, and was unable to comply with her younger sister's request. Emily, after thinking it over for a while, decided it would be better to help the twelve-year-old out of the pit before she managed to get out her self. After all, no one wanted to hear her complain the whole way back in the car about how, since she was the youngest, she was the most unloved.

After being pulled up, Esme was in tears, and she began sobbing into her sister's stomach, much to Emily's distress.

"I…I could of…duh…died!" Esme cried. She shoved her older sister away (much to Emily's own personal joy) and turned to Lord Il Palazzo, and pointed a quavering finger at him.

"You!" she cried. "You insufferable brute! You probably killed our sister, and before we could tell her about father…" she trailed off and began sobbing again, this time louder and accompanied by loud wails. Lord Il Palazzo looked on blankly, not really sure what she was talking about, nor caring.

Quite suddenly, Excel pulled herself out of the pit, sopping wet and coughing.

"Nuthin' down there today…" she mumbled to herself. She looked up to her lord, a looked of strained hope on her face.

"They gone?"

Esme looked up, having had her face in her hands, and she and her other sisters looked on with shock.

"Guess not," Excel said, not even looking behind her. "There's that strained 'they're-right-behind-you'-like tension." She shrugged. "Well, it's back into the pit I go…"

"Oh no you don't!" Emily shouted, rushing around and catching Excel by the collar, dragging her out and dropping her with a loud 'thud' next to the puffy-eyed and red-faced Esme. Ellen had taken off her heels and tossed them into the pit before it had closed up, and was now tapping her foot on the ground again, although it had less of an effect then it had when he shoes were on.

"What in god's name do you think you're doing?" she asked, her face turning red also. "How could you put us through something like that again, after what had just happened to father?" Excel, who had stood up and was wringing her hair out, suddenly stopped.

"What happened to dad?" she asked in a meek voice, suddenly somber. It was quite frightening to see such a change in her face so quickly and without warning.

Ellen looked at her sister, still trying to remain mad. She failed, and her face fell.

"He's dead, Excel," Ellen said. "We've got no one left, I'm afraid…that's why we came here. A letter would not have arrived in time, and you never returned any of father's calls before he died, so we didn't have high hopes when we called you. After awhile we decided that you really wouldn't call back, so we went to the address you had left in the single post card you sent us. And then when we came to your home, and there was that dead girl who said you were at work…" she paused and looked at Hyatt, who was sitting up, revived, looked around the room. "In fact I rather think it was her. Anyway, we didn't know where you worked, so we just had tea with the dead girl until you got back. And when you did you didn't even notice us at first, you just got dressed in that ridiculous outfit, a bit like the one your dead friend is wearing, rambling about one thing or another, and when you finally _did_ notice us, you just pretended like we weren't there, and dragged your friend out of the house. Then we followed you in the car and offered you a ride, but you still pretending like we weren't there. Then you ran really fast and we couldn't find you!"

"You lost us in the sewers," Emily said, very matter-of-factly.

"Which is completely disgusting, by the way," Esme said to Lord Il Palazzo, sniffing and wiping her eyes with a tissue. "Really, there _must_ be a better place to have secret and confidential-like meetings. Might I suggest a Starbucks?"

Lord Il Palazzo glared at the girl at the mere mention at the government-controlled franchise that brainwashed good citizens into thinking they were intellectual when they were really complete imbeciles, and Esme gave a small 'eep' of fear.

"…There's no on left?" Excel asked quizzically. "Mom died too? How come you didn't call and tell me that?"

"She might as well be dead," Emily said bitterly. "That basted who she was having an affair with before dad died - - you didn't know about that, but he was your psychiatrist when you were little - - he's so 'worried' about mom and her mental health after dad died that he's got her on a billion different drugs that leave her like a zombie."

"Of course, he's not _really_ worried about her," Esme said, crossing her arms. "He just wants her to obey his every beck and command without any lip."

"Which is why we came besides the fact that we were sure you would want to hear this horrible news in other ways besides the message 'dad's dead' on your machine," Ellen said, grabbing Excel by the wrists. "Excel, our new step-father believes that if you're not at the funeral, what was left in father's will for you should go to him, seeing that he's the new head of the household. And of course mom agrees with him, seeing that she's got no mind of her own now."

"Well," Excel said, wrenching her hands free of her older sister, "I really would love 'ta see old daddy dearest as he goes six feet under, but I got stuff to do." She turned her back on them to face her lord, trying to revert to the old Excel known and loved by all, although her face was having trouble compiling, seeing that she felt like crying and reaming composure at the same time making the end result blood shot eyes, flushed cheeks, and a stony look with her eyes looking at something beyond Lord Il Palazzo's head.

"World domination and stuff like that. So, tell pops and mom I'm sorry, but I have my own life now that turns it's finely boneded nose, even though noses can't really be finely bonded, mostly because boneded isn't a word, and also 'cuz they don't have bones, they've got cartilage, upon the social butterflies and high society of my childhood hometown."

"Tell him yourself, you little cunt!" screeched Ellen. She turned on her heel and made her way to the door, opening it. She stepped through, but before she slammed the door, she turned and faced Excel's back.

"I never thought you to be so mindless and self-absorbed. Do you even know what he left you, you little bitch? Everything. He left you every god damned thing; the money, the estate, his fucking country club membership. Everything is yours, and it's about to go to some worthless shit who only cares about the grooming of his fucking moustache." With that the door shut with a loud bang, echoing through the great halls of ACROSS's place of meeting.

Excel remained looking ahead. She had by now lost her composure, and her face had fallen. Esme and Emily looked at each other, then Excel, then the door, then each other again. They shrugged and proceeded to follow their older sister.

"He really left me everything?" said a meek voice behind them. They turned, and saw the back of Excel; shoulders slumped, looking at the floor. Emily motioned for Esme to comfort their oldest, and she nodded, then left.

"Yeah," Emily said as the youngest sister departed. "He did."

"Why?" Excel asked. "Why would he do that? He knows - - he _knew_ - - that I didn't want anymore of that. That I didn't want to be apart…apart of the family. Not in that way." Emily shrugged.

"Honestly, I don't think he gave a flying fuck about how you felt. I think he did it because he liked you best, and because he knew - - or thought - - that you would be the best choice in governing the family. Better then I would, at least. Or Esme. Maybe even Ellen." She paused. "Or maybe it was because he missed you, and he knew we missed you, and he thought it was the only way he could get you to return home. I don't know; I kinda' don't care either." She narrowed her eyes. "What I _do_ care about, though, is what happens to our name. It's not going to be walked all over and dragged through the mud by some good for nothing government fuck who just wants the money from us and the power from us and nothing else." She glanced around the room and Hyatt, who stood with her hands folded in front of her, slightly confused but not really showing it, and at Lord Il Pallazzo, who sat in his great chair watching the whole thing with more interest then one would guess, and sighed.

"Look, I'm not really sure what the hell you do here, or why, or how. And I don't care to know. But you're family. You owe us something, I think. You owe us this much. You owe dad this much." Emily walked to the door, and before reaching for the handle, paused. "But most of all, sister Excel," she said looking at her sister who still had her back to her, looking at the floor, "you owe this to yourself. I know you never thought much of yourself - - you never really had any boyfriends because everyone thought you were too weird and you talked to much and you had crazy ideals, and you never had many friends because no one seemed to understand you enough to try, and you failed classes a lot and you were always in summer school, even more then I was - - but this is your chance. Here's how you can live up to what dad thought of you." She opened the door, and as she left, her voice drifted through the room.

"Here's how you show everyone your worth."

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**A/N: Semi long; sorry that the paragraphs are so freaking huge. Anyway, I think that this chapter is a little better then my last one, so I hope you enjoyed reading it. I hope you stick with me even though I don't update often, and when I do it takes for ever. Review and tell me what you think.**


	3. Explanations and Determination

**Disclaimer: I once owned a puppy, but he ran away. This puppy wasn't Menchi. _My_ puppy actually looked like a dog, please and thank you. Now all I have left is this computer, a piggy bank sitting on top of it that is painted like a cow, and a yellow stuffed unicorn. Not a real unicorn, mind you, but a stuffed animal. Notice how Excel Saga isn't on my list of things I own.**

**A/N: I ate a taco salad today, and there happened to be too much salt in it. This isn't really relevant in any way, but I just thought I'd share.**

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**Family Portraits**

_By Someone Who Should Be Finding Literary Devices for the Book Rebecca, but is Just Going To Cheat On This Foreign Girl Later_

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The walk back to the cheap apartment where Excel and Hyatt lived was, for once, one in complete silence. Hyatt was wondering if she should be a little thankful that she wouldn't have to listen to her seniors rambling, or if she should be a little worried about it.

She wasn't even entirely sure why Excel was being so quite, seeing that she had been dead a good amount of the time, and the part where she wasn't was clouded by the feeling of about-to-be-dieing.

"Senior?" Hyatt asked finally. Excel, who was walking with her hands in her pockets, looking at the ground, met eyes with Hyatt as they came to the cross walk across the street from their apartment and waited for the 'walk' sign to appear, even though there were no cars.

"Yeah?" Excel asked, trying to throw some enthusiasm into her words, but failing.

"What exactly happened?"

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Excel threw the keys onto the nearby table, as they entered the apartment, only to miss because they didn't have a nearby table, hitting Menchi in the head, who awoke with a start, shocked to see her masters home and most likely willing to eat her. She cowered, slowly backing away from they keys and the two girls. They ignored this, and proceeded to the room that held the closet that in turn held all their cloths.

"So," Excel said, "that's pretty much the geist of things. Gist? Uh, whatever the word is that I'm lookin' for."

"I see," Hyatt said as they began to undress and change into their pajamas. "I was unaware that senior still had a family."

"Huh?" Excel asked, making a confused face. "Why's that?"

"Mostly because senior told me that her family all died in a horrible yet justifiable accident involving many, many gardening tools and an angry group of field mice." She paused a moment, seeming to forget something. "Hungry field mice. Drunk too?"

"Yeah, drunk too," Excel said. She caught herself, and laughed a little nervously. "Oh, well, yeah. But…uhm, not really, ya' know?"

Hyatt did indeed not know, but decided it best to not say otherwise. Instead she walked to the phone they had received some time ago due to the generosity of their neighbor (or…neighbors? Hyatt could never fully recall them, nor their names). The red light above messages flashed, and she hit the button underneath it.

"You have three messages," the answering machine said in a seemingly happy voice. "First Message."

"This is your boss," the first message said. "You're fired. Don't ask me why. I have my reasons. Most of them include your inability to keep from stabbing the customers with a large machete and dieing all over the food. Sorry; I hope you have better luck with a new job."

"Second Message."

"Hi, this is Iwata, from next door! Well, sort of next door. Anyway, I just wanted to say that Watanabe has a scary crush on you, and although it's been pretty amusing for the most part, it's gotten a little boring and extremely creepy. So I just figured I'd let you know so that you could start avoiding him, thus providing me my last bit of entertainment." A pause. "Better yet, you could tell him about it and turn him down. That would be a lot more funny."

"Third Message."

"Hello, Excel. This is Ellen. Emily and Esme told me that you were goin to think about it. If I might say something? Okay, I will. Look, I know I was just a tad - - okay, I was extremely rude to you. But you deserved it! Uhg, sorry, sorry. Anger management isn't helping, I'm afraid. Anyway, I just wanted to say that you should really come with us back home to father's funeral. You don't have to stay, and you don't have to keep the property. If you could just come and keep it out of our new stepfather's hands, and then just give it to us, that would be fine. I know how horrible it is here - - everyone is so superficial and fake, it's really quite sickening, and I know you never liked any of that, so I'm sure that's why you left. Just…please. Life here is bad enough. Don't let it get any worse." There was a pause. "Fuck, I hope the bloody machine didn't cut me off before I said all of that."

There was a click, and the blinking light stopped flashing.

"End of messages."

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"Do you really think she's going to come through for us?"

Ellen rolled over in her bed and looked over at Esme. They were in some fancy hotel or another, and Esme and Emily were sharing a bed. Ellen couldn't sleep and she suspected that it was the same for her younger sister. Emily, on the other hand, was snoring away, so the eldest girl suspected she was not having the same problem.

"Not really," Ellen said. "But I suspect father did. Otherwise he wouldn't have done such a simple minded thing." Esme nodded and frowned.

"I wonder why she left in the first place. I missed her, you know. You and Emily probably didn't; she was around for most of your life. She was barley there for me." Ellen shrugged.

"I suppose you're right. We are a bit tired of her. She talked a lot, most of the time about things Emily and I never understood. And I think that's why she left. Perhaps she was looking for someone to listen to her."

"You think she found it?" Emily asked, her voice muffled from underneath her blankets. Her sisters looked at her for a moment, but she had started snoring again. Ellen rolled on her side and shut her eyes.

"I'm not sure. I would hope she did, but I get this horrible feeling telling me that she most certainly didn't."

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When Excel woke, birds were singing, the sun was shining, Hyatt was dead, and the smell of coffee wafted over from her neighbor's house. She stretched and sighed happily.

"Hey Hyatt, wake up! Or, you know, come back from the dead! I forgot what the word for that was…" She looked around for Menchi, who was huddled in a corner, sleeping a nervous, shaky sleep that only a puppy that fears for her life can.

"Hey Menchi!" Excel said, bounding out of her bed and tackling the poor dog, which woke with a start and with a fear in her heart (ah, how very poetic I'm being today!). "You wake up too!" The dog was indeed awake, and gave a mournful howl to show so.

Hyatt rolled around, smearing blood all over her bed, and opened her eyes.

"It is indeed a beautiful morning, is it not, Senior Excel?" Hyatt asked, pulling herself up and rubbing her eyes.

"You bet your bum it is!" said Excel. "Hey! I'm gunna' get packed, okay! So you need to tell me which cloths are yours and which are, you know, not!" Hyatt nodded, then blinked.

"Senior…?"

"Yeeeeeaaaaah, Ha-Chan?"

"Why, exactly, are you packing?" Excel gave her a toothy grin.

"I'm goin' on a road trip!"

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**A/N: Aaaaaand I take forever to update! Mostly for I while there I was thinking I wouldn't do this story anymore, but then I was like "what the hell". So, yuss. More of this crappy story! Oh no! Let's dance! ((dances))**

**An, yes, Excel IS a little more serious in this story sometimes. I mean, you know, seeing three bitchy sisters and finding out your dad's dead, plus the family fortune's in the hands of a step-father who drugs your mom might do that to you.**

**But then again, maybe not, seeing that it's Excel and all.**

**P.S. Sorry this chapter was so shortish. /**


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